


Twisted Threads of Fate

by junko



Series: Scatter and Howl [44]
Category: Bleach
Genre: M/M, Original Character(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-16
Updated: 2016-01-16
Packaged: 2018-05-14 08:00:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,198
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5735848
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/junko/pseuds/junko
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Renji and Byakuya talk to the young Ukitake....</p>
            </blockquote>





	Twisted Threads of Fate

They’d exhausted the subject of Isoroku’s involvement in the attack, not really learning much in terms of details since the talkative one, the Tenth Seat, Ando, hadn’t gotten there until late, and the shy one, Kaminari, had spent much of her time tied up in the back of a caravan. 

So Byakuya had dismissed Ando. Twice

Renji wasn’t sure the Tenth Seat was going to leave the room, though even someone unused to Byakuya must have sensed the captain’s irritation. Ando kept looking protectively at Kaminari, like he wasn’t willing to let her out of his sight, not even for a second.

“You heard the captain, pal,” Renji said warningly. “Go get yourself some grub or something, all right? We’re only keeping your friend behind a few extra minutes. Don’t make me have to show you the door. With my fist.”

Ando actually seemed to take several long moments to weigh the option of fighting Renji, but then with a sigh, let it go. He leaned in close to Kaminari, whispered something to her. She nodded with a deep blush. After squeezing her shoulder, Ando finally let himself be led out the door by Eishirō.

These two, definitely old friends. Maybe more. Renji was thinking: maybe, a lot more.

As soon as the door closed, Byakuya turned to Kaminari and said, “I’m willing to entertain the idea of leaving your elder brother out of this, but you need to tell me why.”

That surprised Renji. Byakuya willing to keep a secret like this? From a fellow noble captain?

Kaminari seemed surprised, too. “I… uh, I’m the baby in the family. There are seven of us, not including elder brother, and, well, Mom died shortly after… and so, that makes everybody very… they don’t let me do anything. Ever. Nothing fun, anyway.”

Well, that was nothing, it was never gonna fly--

“Yes, very well. I understand. Carry on,” Byakuya raised his hand in dismissal. “Your secret is safe.”

“What!?” Renji couldn’t stop himself from blurting out. He had to hold himself back from chasing after the girl as she slipped out quickly. In fact, he found he’d taken two steps towards the door already. So he slapped his palms on Byakuya’s desk in exasperation, “That’s it? You’re going to it go at that? That was the shittiest, most half-assed--”

“Renji, calm down,” Byakuya said. “I’m not fooled in the least by either of them. There’s obviously a deeper story here, something our Tenth Seat was willing to be insubordinate over. Everything about them suggests they’re lovers. Our current situation aside, fraternization is hardly a charge that’s been prosecuted much by the Gotei in the past. Ando has no reason to think he’d lose his commission, and, if that were the issue, he’d have downplayed their connection. The way they were together, it was blatantly obvious to even the most casual observer.”

Renji stood up, relaxing his posture. “Yeah, and he tells me he specifically asked to be assigned to go after her, said he was worried about her, just like that--so they ain’t hiding their closeness from anybody.”

“Yes, exactly,” Byakuya agreed. After reaching to ring for a servant, he gestured to Renji to pull up a chair. “I have a very crazy theory, based on hardly anything at all. Do you want to hear it?”

“You, making wild conjecture?” Renji let out a little astonished laugh, as he pulled over one of the stiff back chairs from the corner of the room. “Yeah, Taicho. I’m all ears. Lay it on me.” The chair seemed awfully ornamental, so Renji cautiously lowered his weight onto the narrow cushion. The wood gave a protesting groan, but seemed to hold him.

Aio arrived at the door, and Byakuya put in an order for a ‘working lunch’ for the two of them. After she left, he said, “I think Kaminari Ukitake is married. I think she ran away from a ‘goat’ of a husband to join Ando.”

Renji sat back. “Wow, that’s a doozy. You really think it’s like that?”

“I do,” Byakuya said. “And here’s why: first of all, as you so eloquently pointed out, the story she told about why she left her family was ludicrously weak. Not being allowed to do anything fun? Did she really think that was the sort of thing that would engender sympathy from a fellow noble?” Byakuya must have seen something in Renji’s expression because he added, “Most of the things that nobles are required to do are boring and pointless, Renji. ‘Not being allowed to have fun’ is not a good excuse for abandoning familial responsibilities, not among my class.”

“Right,” Renji nodded. “But, Ukitake isn’t in your class, exactly, is he?”

“Yes, that’s true, but he is still a noble,” Byakuya insisted. “Familial duty is still serious business even among minor houses.”

Renji still wasn’t as convinced, but he said, “So we’re in agreement that she lied.”

“We are,” Byakuya said. “However, my point is that it wasn’t just a lie, it was a terrible lie. If I were going to lie to a fellow nobleman, a fellow Gotei officer, I would have picked the obvious lie, the lie that no one would have questioned. I would have looked me in the eye and said ‘I heard my zanpakutō calling to me.’ Who among the Gotei would fail to be sympathetic to that?”

A little skeptical huff escaped Renji’s mouth before he could stop it, “Yeah, but that’s not something she can fake.”

“She could, for a while,” Byakuya pointed out. “Some zanpakutō are very stubborn and take a certain amount of cajoling before they’ll come out. Regardless, I would have bought it and so would you.”

Renji had to nod at that. “But… that’s still kind of weird, ain’t it? That she couldn’t come up with a good lie. I mean she must’ve had practice, must have bluffed her way into Academy--”

“Did she?” Byakuya interrupted. “Did we recruit her from Academy?”

“No,” Renji said, but then backtracked, “Let me rephrase. I don’t think we did. I feel like I remember her transferring in from the Third, maybe, you know when everybody was…” Renji stopped because if anyone was going to sneak into the Gotei, that would have been the perfect time--when everything was so confused right after Aizen’s betrayal. Moreover, Renji had been on probational leave at the time, and the Sixth, like a lot of Divisions was hemorrhaging soldiers due to loyalty issues. They were taking any comers, with hardly more than a ‘welcome to the Division’ slap on the back and a rubber stamp. “Oh. So, you think she snuck in, like some kind of army stowaway? Yeah, okay.... but who does that? And where would she have gotten an asauchi?”

“The ausachi is a mystery,” Byakuya agreed. “But the sort of person that does such a thing is a desperate person, which leads me back to the idea of the husband and the lover.”

Renji crossed his arms in front of his chest, thinking this through, out loud, “So she’s in a bad marriage--a real bad one, something arranged, something really not working out for her. She’s got a lover, or maybe best friend from childhood in the Gotei, who, what then? Sneaks her in when we’re all distracted after the ryoka invasion? And she’s planning on passing herself off as a soldier for how long?”

“It’s not that difficult a job,” Byakuya said dryly.

“For us,” Renji protested. “We got training.”

“The Kenpachi didn’t,” Byakuya reminded him, “And he’s a captain, not unseated. Besides, aren’t you being rather dismissive of your colleagues. Nearly your entire former regiment came in off the streets with no formal training. It’s hardly unprecedented.”

“Rukongai streets are their own kind of Academy,” Renji said with a little shrug. “And, that’s another thing, why join the Sixth? We’re a fighting regiment, like the Eleventh. We expect people to train and to go on patrol. Even unseated get sent to be bodyguards for your family, that’s how she ended up in trouble. Frankly, if she wanted to hide, just pass as a low level soldier her whole life, she’d’ve been safer to stay in the Third. She wouldn’t even have needed an asauchi. Half them are more kido fighters than anything else.”

“Maybe she wanted to,” Byakuya said. 

A little knock signalled the arrival of food. There were several rows of fancy onigiri, more ball-shaped than the ones Renji usually ate, topped with curls of dried fish flakes and nori. As she set down the tray, Aio said, “The cook wishes me to tell the lieutenant that the ones with the light colored toppings have nothing spicy inside.”

“Ah, thanks a bunch, Aio,” Renji said gratefully. “You’re a lifesaver.”

She smiled softly as she bowed her way out.

“The staff is fond of you,” Byakuya noted, tucking a stray bit of hair behind his ear.

“You’re not jealous, are you?”

“Only a little,” Byakuya said lightly. “Aio is a very delicate, pretty girl. Perhaps your type?”

Renji scrunched up his nose. “Do I seem like a guy into breakables?” Byakuya’s eyebrows raised as if he accepted the implied compliment. “Exactly. Anyway, if I was unsatisfied, I sure as shit wouldn’t go sniffing around your staff. Unless I was hoping to get caught.”

“Oh, I see. You’d stray somewhere further from home?”

Renji tried to gauge Byakuya’s tone. It seemed light enough for him to consider a teasing response, but he decided to just say: “You’re in a funny mood. Something about this Ukitake thing getting to you, Taicho?”

“It’s a subject close to home, I’m afraid,” Byakuya admitted. “Shirking marriage duties.”

It took a minute for Renji to get what Byakuya was hinting at, because he always thought of Byakuya as having fulfilled his duty as a husband, with Hisana. But, that was the thing, wasn’t it? Byakuya had done this exact thing, in a way. He’d broken an arranged marriage contract to be with someone he loved. 

Renji had never entirely gotten the details--who she was, if was she still out there?--but it was clear when Byakuya and Aunt Masama talked around the whole fiasco that it was a big fucking deal, and had nearly destroyed the family.

“So… what are you thinking?” Renji asked, finally picking up one of the rice balls and giving it a sniff. “You thinking we should tell Captain Ukitake, after all, in case there’s some clan war brewing over this girl?”

“Not ‘girl,’ soldier,” Byakuya corrected. “Like it or not, she’s our soldier now.”

“You saying we don’t tell him, then?” Renji asked around a mouthful of rice and salted salmon. 

“I promised the girl, Renji,” Byakuya said with a sigh. “No, I was thinking of something far worse.” He glanced up and caught Renji’s eye. “I was thinking I’d ask Aunt Masama if she knew of a broken Ukitake arrangement.”

Renji sat back and tried to keep his expression neutral. “Fun. Good luck with that.”

Byakuya shook his head slightly, like he was already dreading it, but said, “We’re stuck in this house together. We’ll have to talk about something eventually, and a discussion of the young Ukitake’s marriage contract is far more palatable than this morning’s revelation about her massage oil.”

Renji lost track somewhere in there, “What? What revelation?”

“Apparently our makeshift… lubricant belonged to Aunt Masama.”

The onigiri nearly stuck in his throat, and Renji coughed. “Oh. My. _Gods_.”

“Yes. That’s what she said.”

#

After Renji left, Byakuya went in search of his aunt. He found her in his father’s study, where she sat seiza in a warm pool of light, leafing through a portfolio of Sōjin’s calligraphy. Seeing him, she handed Byakuya the piece she’d been admiring, “My brother was a fine artist.”

Byakuya sank to the floor beside her, setting the art beside the others she had laid out. “His poetry is also quite fine. It’s a shame he only thought himself a copyist.”

She let out a sad laugh, “So it is with the great ones, is it not?”

Byakuya nodded, though he was tempted to point out that had anyone given his father this kind of praise or encouragement for his art while he was alive, perhaps he still would be. “And to think it was all done with his non-dominant hand. Perhaps he would’ve been ten-times as great, if allowed to express himself naturally.”

Masama sucked in a horrified breath. “Why must you always spoil things with your horribleness, Bya-chan? I should hope you bite your tongue for saying such disrespectful things about your father.”

As though she’d slapped him, the heat of embarrassment colored his cheeks. “It was not meant as disrespect, lady aunt. Quite the opposite. Should we not admire him for his skill despite a handicap?”

“Stop it,” she hissed. “No one ever discussed Sōjin’s…. We do not discuss such shameful things, least of all about the honored dead. In fact, I’m quite shocked you learned of it. It’s a well guarded secret. Or so I thought.”

Byakuya nodded. Had Kyōraku not told him, Byakuya would never have known this most personal and critical bit of knowledge about his own father--information that had explained so much, including, perhaps, why Sōjin had never achieved bankai. But, no good would come of trying to explain any of this to Masama. “Believe it or not, I didn’t come here to argue with you, my lady aunt.”

“Oh? Then why are you here? Why did you burst in and disturb and dishonor fond memories of a brother I loved?”

Sitting back on his heels, Byakuya took in a slow breath and listened to Senbonzakura’s song. Had there been words, Byakuya imagined them to be something along the lines of ‘six reasons why killing your aunt, while satisfying to consider, is actually an extremely bad life choice.’ All six of them were ‘blood is a terribly difficult stain to remove and you might ruin your father’s artwork.’ 

After several moments of this, Byakuya opened his eyes. “You’ve been our family’s matchmaker for decades,” he said. “You must know all the gossip about the local noble’s marital affairs.”

Masama regarded Byakuya with suspicion. “I take it this has something to do with your precious Gotei? Surely, my soldiering nephew hasn’t suddenly developed an interest in court politics?”

“You know me too well,” Byakuya conceded with a slight nod. Then, carefully, he laid out the bait. He wasn’t sure his ploy would work, but he knew better than to go at his question directly. “It’s captains Kyōraku and Ukitake. I heard a rumor that they’re like… Renji and I. From what I understand they, too, are both clan heads and I wondered what the families made of all that.”

“Oh, the two of them,” she snorted. “Their poor families have given up after a thousand some years. I do wish Shunsui could be talked around, since he’s at least… amenable and so very handsome. I could marry him off in an instant, if he’d only consider it. Though I understand his hesitation to ever marry, given the tragedy of his brother.” She covered her mouth suddenly in way that made Byakuya itch to ask for details, but he held his tongue in hopes that his silence would embolden her to continue. When Byakuya said nothing, Masama slowly peeled her fingers away. She fussed with the calligraphy a little more, arranging pieces on the floor. Finally, she continued, “Of course, Jūshirō is a lost cause--has been so from an early age and very...unyielding in his tastes, not unlike your Isoroku, deviant from start to finish.”

There was so much to object to in what she’d said that Byakuya had to close his eyes and sing along to Senbonzakura’s admonishment not to murder his aunt for several seconds: _blood is hard to clean, blood is hard to clean, la, la, la, la-la-la, don’t ruin father’s things_. 

“Indeed,” Byakuya managed tightly. “Are there not many Ukitake siblings to take up the slack?”

“Yes, thank goodness his brothers are all red-blooded,” she sniffed. She glanced out at the snowy courtyard, as though lost in thought. “All married very well, as far as I’ve heard, except, perhaps the youngest ones.”

“And the sisters?”

Masama must have detected something in Byakuya’s tone, because she smirked. “Are you actually asking after a woman, a marriageable woman, Bya-chan?”

Damnation. He was either going to have to show his hand… or lie. “It would be a good alliance,” he said cautiously. Her face grew hopeful and expectant, until he added, “For Shinobu.”

She harrumphed. “I thought we were marrying him off to Hirako.”

“Perhaps,” he said. “But if a Ukitake is available…?”

“Well, you’re out of luck. Whatever your Gotei ambitions were, you should forget them. Both Ukitake girls are married.”

Just as he’d thought. “Ah,” Byakuya said, trying to seem deeply disappointed at the news. “Alas.”

#

Renji spent the afternoon shadowed by a certain glowering Tenth Seat. Ando watched him from the corner the entire time he was at the dojo, working out. Once he’d finished, Renji stalked across the mat directly over to Ando and asked, “What’re you after? You must know from your friend that the captain doesn’t give any fucks about whatever you two are up to.”

“Do you?” Ando asked and damn near thrust out his chest. 

Grabbing a towel from the rack behind Ando and trying not to take pleasure in the fact that he flinched a little when Renji’s hand skimmed passed him, Renji wiped the sweat from his face slowly, deliberately. “I ain’t in the business of second guessing the captain’s decisions.” At Ando’s skeptical arched eyebrow, Renji felt compelled to grumpily acknowledge, “Mostly. Except when they involve my friends.”

“And, with all due respect, sir, that infamous special friend is Captain Ukitake’s lieutenant,” Ando muttered, glancing away.

Well, there was that. No wonder Ando was so worried. Renji tossed the towel into the bin holding the others. “Look, I’ll be straight with you. So long as everyone in this Division does their job, I really don’t care what they get up to off-hours. If I were any other way, I’d be a raging hypocrite.”

Ando nodded, though he still looked troubled. Renji stared at him, waiting for whatever else he might have to say. Standing next to him, Renji took in the fact that Ando was a good three inches shorter than Byakuya and several pounds lighter. This close, Renji could smell the nobility on him--something fresh and crisp, like mint.

When it seemed like Ando might stand there all day, frowning, Renji said, “I don’t know why you’re always talking for Kaminari, anyway. It’s disrespectful. You ought to let a fellow warrior fight her own fights.”

Ando gave Renji a pained look, “Kaminari isn’t very… war-like.”

“What are you saying, exactly?” Renji went over to fetch a bottle of water from the attendant. This cooler and its contents were one of the very few Human World imports in the Sixth. Getting it had been quite the negotiation. At first, Renji had tried to convince Byakuya to agree to it by explaining that there were certain brands of electrolyte-infused water that were considered the very best and having them available was a sign of taste and class. Byakuya, of course, was impervious to other people’s sense of value, relying entirely on tradition to be his guide. When it was noted that the Twelfth paid for recyclable materials, particularly plastic, Byakuya had decided that this one little premium at least paid for itself, and thus could be allowed, so long as it remained inconspicuous.

Ando followed Renji over to the attendant, and stood beside him, watching as Renji paid for the bottle and drank it. “You’ve met her, sir. She’s… fragile.”

Renji wiped his mouth, and handed the empty back to the attendant. “Nope.”

“Huh?” Ando blinked, confused.

So, Renji explained. “No. There are no ‘fragile’ soldiers in this Division. Everybody in the Sixth stands on their own feet. Yeah, we help each other out, cover blind spots and compensate for each other’s weaknesses, but nobody gets babysat or coddled, you understand? That’s too dangerous in a battle. If Kaminari can’t take care of herself--she and I, we’ve got a problem. She ain’t got to be sword tough, like me, but she’d better have some fighting skill or other, and she’d better be able to handle the pressure, or she needs to transfer somewhere safer. You can’t be swanning off to rescue her anytime she stumbles.”

“Oh, I see,” Ando sniffed, “Just as you didn’t turn traitor to rescue your little friend.”

Renji pulled himself up to his full height and crossed his arms in front of his chest. He released a thrum of reiatsu as a warning. “I’m giving you five seconds to reconsider what you just said, Tenth Seat. That’s a Kuchiki you just insulted.”

Ando let out a light laugh, “You don’t deny you were a traitor?”

“Why would I?” Renji said evenly. “Technically, an officer is allowed to disobey an unjust order. But, I ain’t making excuses. I had no idea Aizen had replaced Central when I did what I did. But, don’t you fucking think for a second that I went AWOL because Rukia was some kind of wilting wallflower. She’s one of the most capable soldiers I know.”

Ando’s lips went thin, but he pulled himself into a respectful bow. “I apologize for my comments regarding Lieutenant Kuchiki-sama.”

Renji wanted to make Ando repeat that without the -sama, but he understood it for what it was: respect. “Right, so you going to stop stalking me now?”

Coming up, Ando nodded. “I believe I understand your position now, sir. Am I right that, so long as Kaminari plays the part of a good soldier, you have no issue with her?”

Frowning at the ‘play the part’ bit, Renji considered clarifying that she’d better fucking ‘be’ a good soldier, not just ‘play’ at it. But, his beef really wasn’t with this guy, the go-between, so he said, “Something like that.”

“Then we have reached an accord.”

With that settled, Ando did that noble thing, turning his back on Renji, as though dismissing him. Renji reached out a hand and caught Ando’s shoulder before he could sweep out of the dojo. Leaning into his ear, Renji growled: “‘Sir.’ That’s, ‘Then we have reached an accord, ‘sir.’”

At least Ando had the sense to snap to. “Sir! Yes, sir.”

Renji let him go, “You’re dismissed, Tenth Seat.”

“Sir!”

Renji shook his head as Ando made his way out, slightly less pompously. Turning back to the center ring of the dojo, Renji decided he needed to pound on more things--preferably some arrogant noble things, but the practice dummy would have to do. 

#

Byakuya spent the afternoon in his sitting room, looking through boxes pulled from the Kuchiki archive. 

The sun was starting to set when he finally found what he’d been looking for. The marriage contract between Aunt Masama and Koga… Eguchi. 

Because Masama was the eldest Kuchiki, who, if she had been born another gender, would have been heir, the terms were very… generous to the married couple--the amount of land and holdings they jointly owned after Koga’s investiture was impressive.

The Eguchi themselves brought very little to the table besides their eldest son. He must have been an impressive man. Certainly, the things mentioned in the contract made Koga seem a very skilled warrior, very ambitious, and on the up, in terms of his career advancement. But there was a remarkable absence of heritage. No Eguchi family tree was included, neither was there a mention of rank or birth or blood.

In fact, a lot of the language in the contract very carefully spelled out that Koga, and only Koga, and not the entire Eguchi family, would be elevated by this marriage. In fact, among the fine print, Byakuya was able to discern that the parents got little more than a thank you very much, don’t expect an invite to the wedding, and a tiny, almost insulting stipend.

An odd match for the eldest Kuchiki. 

It seemed very clear to Byakuya that this was a marriage made entirely between two people who had fallen wildly and madly in love.

Hmmm, how ironic, Byakuya thought. Especially given the grief he suffered at Masama's hands for being so ‘selfish’ for wanting to marry for love. 

Though perhaps, in retrospect, it made sense, given how badly her marriage for love had turned out in the end.

Picking up his brush, Byakuya copied down the details of the lands and holdings that were awarded the married couple. Tomorrow, he would see if he could track down exactly what had happened to all of it. If the Gotei seized it, it was very likely broken down and sold off. If there had been a manor, it was likely gone--destroyed or repurposed beyond reclamation. 

But, perhaps, some part of the lands could be repurchased and returned to Masama. 

He wasn’t sure why he was still pursuing this. She would never thank him. Never be less ugly to him.

Yet... there was Kuchiki honor at stake. It seemed wrong to Byakuya that only Koga and Masama had suffered. Either the whole family should have paid, or none of them. It was also an opportunity to strike back at a grandfather who had always been unfair and unkind.

Setting aside the matter for now, Byakuya took up his pen and drafted a far more pleasant note, which began:

>   
>  _Dear Captain Ōtoribashi,_
> 
> _My partner Renji and I have considered your offer and accept…._

#

When Renji arrived for dinner at the estate he was surprised to see Rukia. At first he wondered if Byakuya was going to try to weasel information about the little Ukitake out of her, but then he chided himself for being paranoid. She lived at the estate. Byakuya was her brother. Why wouldn’t she be at dinner?

Though, her presence always made Renji feel a little awkward, as if he were an intruder into a family gathering. He found himself hesitating at the door. That is, until she ran up and wrapped him in a surprise, giant hug. 

The way she clung to his waist just a little too desperately and too long made Renji remember Ichigo and how much she must be missing him. Renji gave Rukia’s hair a little fond ruffle. “Good to see ya, too, Squirt.”

Of course she punched him in the arm at that. “Oi! Not all of us are gigantic baboons, I’m happy to say!”

Where he sat all properly in front of the little table, Byakuya let out an impatient sigh.

Rukia spun around and gave Byakuya a little bow of apology, but, as she came up, mischievously said, “Sorry, nii-sama, this idiot always brings out the worst in me.”

“Indeed?” Byakuya asked dryly. “Funny. He has the opposite effect on me.”

Rukia actually let out a little, “D’aww!” and Renji felt his face burst into a hot blush. But, it was the thing he needed to feel welcome again, and so he made his way over and sat down across from Byakuya. Renji had the weirdest impulse to greet Byakuya with a kiss on the cheek, but, outside of a little forward motion, he managed to stopped himself in time. Byakuya’s eyes widened, as though he’d guessed Renji’s intent and was just as surprised.

Renji cleared his throat and feigned interest in what was spread out on the table. He wasn’t really looking at the food, but instead mentally kicked himself. The hell? Did anyone in the entire Seireitei even do that, ever? Sure as shit no one in Byakuya’s class ever did. 

Having watched the whole silent exchange, Rukia smirked, making both Byakuya and Renji blush. She opened her mouth to say something, but decided against it. 

Eventually, Byakuya broke the silence by saying grace over the food. The moment he did, Renji and Rukia chimed in with their own “Itadakimasu!” Rukia seemed a little taken aback by how quickly Byakuya reached for food, completely eschewing the usual sedate, hierarchical process. Renji leaned in to her to whisper, “He was injured.”

“Oh,” she nodded. “Not badly I hope?”

“Mostly my pride,” Byakuya said, though Renji knew that was a bit of a lie. “Prison food didn’t agree with me. What little there was of it.”

Rukia looked a little ashen. Renji briefly tried to remember if they’d fed her, and then, right away, he knew they had--because they’d hired out that kid from the Fourth for the job. Maybe not so much in that awful white tower, though.

Maybe it was just the thought of her brother in prison that had Rukia looking so stricken.

“I can’t believe I’ve been so selfish. I’d forgotten… I’ve been so focused on my own problems. Oh, nii-sama! Was it so horrible?”

No, it was guilt.

Byakuya said, “Let’s talk of nicer things, shall we?”

Renji knew it was his job to find a suitable topic, so he cast around for a safe subject. “Uh, so where’s Shinobu this evening?”

“I’ve sent him off to… enjoy a play this evening,” Byakuya said without meeting Renji’s eye.

A play? Without Byakuya, the big theatre patron? There was something fishy going on here.

Rukia picked up the thread and asked for details about the show. 

Meanwhile, Renji tried to figure out why that scenario struck him as so odd… and troubling. Suddenly, it hit him, “To the theatre? Alone? I mean… the _theatre_ ,” Renji stumbled not quite being able to bring up the whole issue with Yukimura and Isoroku in mixed company.

“He was accompanied by bodyguards,” Byakuya said tellingly. “I would never jeopardize family interests.”

Rukia gave Renji a funny look and added, "Besides, theater isn't as bawdy and lawless as it once was." 

Okay, right, ‘family interests.’ Renji nodded sharply, to let Byakuya know he was catching at least some of the subtext here. Maybe Byakuya had sent Shinobu and his battalion of armed guards to seize the theatre properties as retaliation for the kidnapping of Kaminari. Byakuya had said earlier that things would be dealt with, and perhaps this had been what he meant.

Rukia shifted the conversation slightly, “How is Shinobu working out?”

Byakuya frowned slightly, but quickly hid his brief show of disappointment. “It’s not that I don’t like him,” Byakuya admitted, “But every time I pass on family stories or lore or responsibilities to him, I think about how awful it is that you are not my heir, Rukia.”

“Kuchiki are patrilineal,” she said with a little shrug of resignation.

“Kuchiki are hidebound and it may one day be the death of us,” Byakuya said. “Perhaps, when the time comes, I will find a way to make sure you’re invested in some way, as well, and not hung out to dry like so many Kuchiki women before you.”

“Oh?” came an all-too familiar voice from the door, “Speaking of me, are you, Bya-chan?”

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry for the cliffhanger. More soon. Thanks to Josey (cestus) for her help with typos and cheerleading!


End file.
